


Intoxicated

by Loreyulia



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, It gets real gay real fast, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Rewrite of an old fanfic of mine, headcanons, mentions of alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8131294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loreyulia/pseuds/Loreyulia
Summary: Roy Mustang likes to enjoy a couple drinks in seedy bars after work, a ritual he still holds onto even as a promoted General in Central Command. This particular summer evening he finds a lovely blonde woman slumped drunkenly at the bar, and he can't help the strange alluring pull she has on him. Except, he finds out that she is really a he, and not just any man-- no, of course the blond he has been ogling turns out to be Edward freaking Elric, his once bratty subordinate.In a liquid courage induced state of mind, Roy approaches Ed and starts up a (seemingly unwanted) conversation with the former Alchemist. And as the events of the evening unfold, the two will come to find that maybe they have changed over the war-torn years of struggle, and pain. And that, given all they have been through together, maybe unspoken feelings strange, but unavoidably real-- have been lurking under the surface all along.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Wow, I never thought I would do this, but here I am rewriting a very old oneshot I made for an old fanfiction.net buddy. But this story has always been one I am particularly proud of writing, even given that it honestly had a lot of problems. That's okay though, because it shows that growth does happen, people mature and their writing does too. So here I am, polishing up an old piece of work so it can shine in my memories like it once did, as precious as when I first wrote something I was truly proud of creating. I hope you enjoy reading this, as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

The air is hot and sultry, and the sun is beginning to set as it throws the city into hues of gold's and red's. Summer heat is absorbed into everything it touches in one last ditch effort to keep Central warm before the moon will rise. Children are now being shepherded inside by the calls of Motherly voices shouting, "Dinner!" A tiny smile pulls at my lips, nostalgic memories of home come rushing into the forefront of my thoughts at the sound. I shake my head after awhile, tossing aside the memories of my childhood to stay focused on the present. 

My quickly measured footsteps finally come to a halt right in front of one of the many dingy looking doors to a seedy Bar that Central has to offer. My fingers, which are wrapped in fine silk, grasp the bronze doorknob in the easily confident way I always seem to display; and I waltz right on in as if I own the place. It is much cooler inside the Bar, the muted, quiet atmosphere is a veritable safe haven for me.

The high pitched whir of the Bar's cooling system plays in perfect harmony to the soft clinking of ice in glasses of booze. My sharp, perceptive eyes scan through the inhabitants in the front room of the Bar; hushed voices and the muted sound of pool cue's knocking balls around alert me to the presence of other patrons in the back room. The way my senses atune themselves to pick apart the finest details of my surroundings is such an ingrained habit from Military training, that at this point it isn't even second nature. It's the first and utmost priority, even when I'm entering such a lackadaisical place such as this. 

A few men sit companionably at a table closest to the bar, and they all laugh uproariously at some thing while they shove eachother around in that kind of way only close friends are allowed to do. A dull pang shoots through me at the sight, memories of days like that spent with my best friend Maes Hughes, are still not easily forgotten. 

There are a handful of other men dotted around the front room; all varied from young businessmen fresh from work, to old haggard gentlemen who prefer to keep to themselves in obscure corners. And then there is one lone blonde woman with long, lush looking hair, who is slumped face down at the bar. Perhaps if the woman (who in my opinion has the loveliest head of hair I have seen in quite some time) wasn't so obviously wasted off her ass, I would have liked to sweet talk her into my sheets. An appreciative sigh falls past my lips as I give her a last look over, before taking my own seat a few barstools away from the lovely haired blonde. 

Besides, I reason with myself, that shade of bright gold is too close to a certain someone's and it sets my teeth on edge to think of that brat at a time like this. 

I raise a two finger salute to the Bartender, who is surreptitiously drying out glasses with a worn dishcloth. The man nods as he pushes up his thin wire-framed glasses and walks over to me. "What'll you be havin' then?" The Bartender asks casually, with a scraggly eyebrow quirked upward in a questioning way.  
"Scotch on the rocks please." 

The Bartender nods again, and sets about artfully pouring the drink-- not spilling a single drop from what seems years of practice. He slides the drink my way, and takes the offered Cenz from my gloved hands. I lift the cool glass to my mouth, and silently toast to myself. The first sip always burns the worst; falling down my throat like liquid fire, and moments later singes through my veins. 

I enjoy myself for the first ten or so minutes. Sitting back casually as I slowly sip my preferred drink and people watch-- occasionally checking to see if the blonde three seats down is even still alive since she hasn't moved once since I got here. I cannot stress how much I was enjoying myself, until the blonde woman lifts her-- no his-- head and slurs in an unmistakable, familiar voice. 

"Barkeep'emcomin'..." 

Oh how the gods love to mock me... I think with a bitter scowl. Of course the blond just HAS to be Edward freaking Elric, my once bratty subordinate. And fuck, I have been checking the younger man out this entire time! In all fairness, Ed did kind of look like a girl when he was all slumped over, his long hair splaying across his shoulders and down the length of his back. 

The Bartender slides a bright red drink with a few cherries floating amongst the ice toward Ed, who surprisingly catches it with decent dexterity considering his current state of inebriation. The former State Alchemist stirs his drink around lazily with his straw before taking a few hesitant sips, only to slump forward again; resting his head upon a forearm. 

It gives me a chance to take in all of the small details I ignored before when I assumed that Ed was just another blonde party girl. The biggest tell should have been the broad set of Edward's shoulders and back. The narrow cinch of his waist, that lead down to just as narrow hips. Ed's strong, sculpted ass that is shamelessly displayed through his custom tight, black leather pants. "How the fuck did I mistake him for a woman?" I cant help thinking incredulously to myself, "Maybe a few years ago yes, that would have been very plausible; but now? Dear Gate, Ed is all MAN." 

Still, it shocks me to the core finding the younger man here of all places seemingly drowning himself in the warm hum of intoxication. It's just so unlike Ed. This scene is more appropriate for men like myself-- not for a young, fiery man in his prime. I down the rest of my scotch, the extra boost of liquid courage that I need to bolster my resolve. Tonight I have questions for the former Alchemist, and I am damn well going to get answers. 

"Hey Fullmetal," I shout to catch the blond's attention. It takes a few seconds for it to sink in for Ed that some one has called his name. Slowly he lifts his head up, and starts looking around blearily for the source of his disturbance down the road of blissful drunkenness. His bright gold eyes finally lock onto me while I wave half-heartedly and smirk a little bit less like my normal smug self. 

"Fuck," Ed spits out, his words slightly slurred. "The hell you doin' here, bastard Colonel?" 

My usual self important smile finally slithers across my lips. Oh how predictable Edward Elric really is, even to this day. "Soooo. When did you get back to Central?" I chime in, ignoring Ed's scathing comments. "I thought you were staying in Resembool now." At this point I have deposited myself onto a stool next to Ed, and appraise the shorter man with the utmost scrutiny. 

Ed grumbles to himself, his words sounding suspiciously like, "Noneyuh fucking business." He glares when he is done muttering darkly and starts sipping at his drink again. 

"By the way Fullmetal, I am a General now. So, I expect you to address me as such." I raise a two finger salute again to catch the Bartender's attention, and wait patiently for my new glass of scotch. 

That catches Ed's attention, and he looks up to me, his brilliant gold eyes suddenly a bit clearer. "Well bastard-- looks like your little dream might be realized sooner than I thought." He frowns then and shakes his head before adding, "and stop calling me 'Fullmetal'. I ain't a State Alchemist anymore... just-- just call me Ed." 

I don't miss the hesitance in Edward's voice, the sad reluctance to let go of such a big part of what has defined him for so many years. The glass of scotch that is set down before me gives me something to occupy myself with, as I spend the next awkward moments stirring it, and taking a few sips. "So, you never told me why you're here Ed." I leave it as an open ended question on purpose, letting Ed interpret it as he will. 

The irritated groan he emits in response is almost amusing, and I am suddenly reminded of Mission Reports and legendary screaming matches between the former Alchemist and myself. "Shit... fine, if you want to know so fucking badly I'll tell ya'." Ed grinds out through clenched teeth. "Al... Alphonse is getting engaged to May. I just... I can't stand being around them anymore. Every fucking day it's kisses and fuckin' rainbows! I just... I need some space." 

It's difficult to miss the self loathing that swims through Ed's golden eyes, and it's even easier to figure out why it is there. He is feeling guilty for being irritated by Alphonse's happiness-- and that triggers a new level of self hate for being so negative about it. The question is, why is he feeling so torn up over his only brother's happiness? Especially after all that they have been through... 

"So, is this the part where you tell me?" I nudge Ed's arm companionably with my elbow, trying anything I can to get the younger man to open up-- because I know damn well how Ed has spent too long bottling everything up inside himself. 

Edward's fiery gaze settles into one of his infamous glares. "Tell you what?" He spits out, a biting harshness to his tone. 

"Why you're feeling so put out by Alphonse's engagement." 

He snorts derisively at me. "No, this is the part where I tell you to mind your own goddamn business." 

Another awkward silence falls between the two of us, and it is only punctuated by the sounds of ice cubes clinking against glass, and the soft murmurs of the other patrons around us. Ed sullenly gulps down the rest of his drink and orders another; the Barkeep shakes his head, but goes about mixing up another one regardless. 

"So," Ed breaks the silence when his new drink is presented to him, "since we're being all 'touchy feely' you wanna tell me why you're here?" 

The question catches me off guard for a moment, because it's so unlike Ed to openly consider other people's motives and feelings. "Welllll... honestly, I don't know why I'm here." I shrug, and feel a small frown crease my brow. "I guess it's just become such an ingrained routine, to go out for a drink or two after work." 

A sly smile cracks Ed's somber features. "Yeah, and you were probably looking to get laid, huh?" He says it with so much snark it almost feels like the old days again, and it makes me smile despite Ed's thorny behavior. 

My answering smile gradually shifts into a smirk, as I recall how I originally assumed that Ed was a woman when I came into the Bar. "Yeah, that's going to get him nice and riled up," I think evilly to myself. 

"If I wanted to get laid Ed, I would have gone to a more upbeat place than this. This is all about relaxing, taking the workload off at the end of the day... though," I pause for a bit of dramatic flair, "I did see a very pretty blonde woman when I walked in-- almost thought about nailing her." The end of my sentence is practically punctuated by a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. 

Ed looks around the Bar, frowning when he can't spot the woman I was talking about. Then, slowly as it dawns on him, he whips his head back to see my smirk and he gives me his most fearsome glare in response. "Just 'cuz my hair is long doesn't make me a fucking girl you asshole!" He practically screeches, banging one of his fists harshly on the wooden countertop. 

I laugh at the blush steadily creeping across Ed's fair skin, thoroughly enjoying the young man's embarrassment. I hold my hands up in defense when Ed tries, and fails miserably to sock me in the face. "Look, all kidding aside I did accidentally mistake you for a girl when you were slumped over and all I could see was your hair." I amend, holding both of Edward's balled up fists in my hands. The glare he shoots me is a bit less potent, as he is too focused on struggling to get free to put more bite behind it. 

My dark eyes roam up and down Ed's body and enjoy the low dip of the shirt collar on his loose, black tank top. The tight leather, which clings to every piece of hard muscle and smooth curves his lower half has to offer. Every subtle wave and gentle wisp of Edward's bright gold hair that falls past his shoulders, and frames his still slightly round face; accentuating the squareness of his jaw, the sharp edges of his delicate cheekbones. 

"Y'know, if you take a picture it'll last longer," Ed smirks almost maliciously, probably enjoying the fact that I visibly flinch and immediately look away from his distracting physique when he calls me out for it. 

"By the way," I clear my throat nervously as I change the subject and knowingly continue to dig myself a bigger hole, "why do you have your hair down? Don't get me wrong-- it looks fine! it's just... different." 

Ed picks up a broken hairband in response to my question. "Can't fix it remember?" His words are tinged with subtle edges of regret. I look at his right arm out of reflex, still not used to seeing flesh there instead of metal; and I am reminded of Edward's ultimate sacrifice to retrieve what the Gate had stolen away from him. He can no longer perform Alchemy... 

"I could uh... I could fix that for you, if you'd like." I offer, feeling a little guilty as the words leave my mouth. 

Ed just shakes his head and gives me a tiny smile before replying, " 's all right, I'll just deal with it 'til I get home." 

"Well okay," it's all I can think to say in response. 

Edward's smile widens a bit and he pats me on the back. "Hey, let's just forget all this depressing shit and get wasted." 

A grimace flashes briefly across my features, because I'm frustrated by Edward's inability to open up and let his friends and family be there to help him, when things got tough.  
I open my mouth to reprimand him, like so many times in the past, but think better of it. After all, Ed isn't a little 12 year old boy any more, and he was free to live his life however he saw fit. I shake my head and smile wryly as I reply, "Sure, why the hell not?" 

 

By the time Edward and I realize that perhaps we have both had waaaaaay too much to drink, it is completely dark outside; the busy thrum of Central dulled down to an occasional pulse. The moon hangs high in the ink dark sky and it lights up the streets where the phosphorous glow of the street lamps can't reach. 

The Bar that the both of us have been drinking in closes earlier than most, so at 11 o' clock all the last minute stragglers are ushered out into the cool summer night air. The fresh breeze helps to clear my fuzzy thoughts a bit, at least enough to make me realize that my companion is far more shit faced than myself. Edward is leaning heavily against a nearby brick wall, and he teeters from side to side; giggling like a little child. A blissful smile lights up my face, Edward's drunken behavior amusing me. I can't help but find it strangely adorable as well. 

Stumbling a little towards Ed, I find myself leaning against the wall too, hovering protectively over him. "Ed... we uhhhhh-- we need to get you home... or at least some place safe for the night." I mumble, trying to connect coherent thoughts at this point. 

Edward looks up, staring intently into my eyes. He smiles wide and foolish, and tips forward into my strong torso. "Mmmmmmm, nice an' safe right here..." he mumbles against my ribcage. His hot, moist breath seeps through my cotton shirt where my thick blue Military jacket is open, and it sends shivers crawling across my skin. 

My heartbeat quickens, the sound of pulsing blood thunders through my ears. Edward nuzzles further into my chest, his arms loosely wrap around my waist. A breathless groan almost escapes my mouth, the weight of the younger man pressed so heavily into me, is sending very confusing feelings to my lower regions. 

I back Edward up against the wall, connecting our hips together in an extremely wrong, but intimate fashion. He makes an odd sound, something between a groan and a breathless sigh. I place my gloved hands on either side of Edward's face and tilt it up towards my own. We stare at each other intensely for awhile, our shared breaths coming out ragged, and harsh. 

I know in that moment that I can kiss Edward, can force my tongue into his mouth and practically plunder it. I lean in closer, wanting to taste his lips against mine; take all of the passion and heat his mouth has to offer me. Something stops me though... the heavy stench of alcohol on Ed's breath, and the unfocused haziness in his gold eyes makes me stop cold. He is drunk, and I know that kissing Edward now (as pleasurable as the notion sounds) will still be taking advantage of his weakness. I could never forgive myself if I let it get that far. 

Instead, I change course and tip my forehead against Edward's and mumble, "Let's get you home okay?" 

" 's too far... don't wanna go home." Ed looks confused for a moment, eyebrows pinched together, his gaze looking troubled. " 'sides... I don't... don't have a home to go back to, do I?" 

"Don't be silly Ed, you must've rented an apartment--" I stop myself, sudden realization dawning on me and I understand what he meant. An overwhelming feeling of sadness engulfs me for a few moments; images of ash, and charred wood surface. The distinct smell of fire. "No Ed, you do have a home remember? You have the Rockbell's, and Alphonse... and," I take a deep breath before continuing, "... and you have me." 

Edward looks away, a deep frown carving his face into a mask of bitter sadness. "I don't really have them anymore, do I? Winry's got a boyfriend, and Al is gettin' married... they're starting new lives. I'm just a burden that will get in the way of their happiness. I can't move forward..." 

A fragile Edward is something I have only witnessed a few times since I met him as a kid... and each time it wrenches the heart out of my chest, and crushes it to a pulp. I cup his red cheeks, and feel his cold, wet tears seep into the silk of my gloves. I brush the last stray tear off of the tip of Ed's nose. 

"I know what you're feeling right now Ed. Believe it or not, I felt the same exact way when Hughes married Gracia. But... well, I learned that friends like them or like Winry-- family like Alphonse, they will want to stick by your side no matter what. I'm pretty sure everyone will be upset, if you don't let them include you in their lives." 

Edward lets out a shuddery sob, but no more tears fall from his watery eyes. "I know," he says, voice eerily small, "it just... it hurts so much worse when you're in love with someone you can't have, and you have to watch the people closest to you get something you can't." 

His words shock me to the core. So, there's more to his heartache than what he originally let on... I wonder is he's talking about Winry? 

Ed teeters back a bit, almost losing his footing, and he curses. All of this deep, emotional connecting to Edward has sobered me up a little more, at least to the point where I can think straight. "C'mon," I take a hold of Ed's waist, "my place isn't too far from here. You're free to stay the night, since I don't want you walking home alone in your state right now." 

"M'kay..." Edward slurs, leaning heavily against me. A sigh pushes past my lips, but I move forward regardless, practically carrying the shorter man along with me.

 

The normal ten minute walk becomes almost twenty five minutes, because of Edward's extra weight and clumsy limbs. But eventually I lead him up the small stone path just past an old wrought iron gate, and up to my front door. I shuffle him around a bit, letting him lean completely against my torso while I search my pockets for my keys. As I insert the key into the lock, I can almost swear I feel the wet press of a kiss against my chest. I ignore it though, chalking it up to an accidental brush of Ed's lips. 

I push the door open with my foot and lead the younger man inside; shutting the door behind us with my elbow. Ed looks around the foyer, a blissful grin tattooed on his face.  
"Nice," he stops to gather his scattered thoughts, "nice place ya' got here... for a bachelor." 

"Well I make do," I reply, studying him intently. It seems that Edward goes through severe mood swings while drunk; a bizarre cycle of emotions. 

"So, you got anymore booze?" Ed asks as he finally untangles himself from me, "I'm not nearly as shit faced as I want to be... the buzz is kinda wearin' off now." A half smile twists Edward's face into something mischievous and almost... sultry. 

I give him a skeptical look as I reply, "Do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, you seem delightfully drunk as it is." I appraise Edward from top to bottom , hands on my hips (in a completely manly fashion of course). 

"Awe c'mon," Ed whines petulantly, "where's the fun in that? Let's get so hammered that we pass out in a pool of our own vomit! Or are you too old to keep up with me geezer?" The notoriously malicious smirk slithers right back onto the blond's face, a few snickers added to help goad me further. 

"You're not going to break me down by using petty insults shorty," I dead pan, trying my very best not to give into my former subordinate. 

Ed shoots me a glare sharper than his old automail blade, obviously still not taking well to cracks about his height...or lack-there-of. "If you're going to be a boring old man for the rest of the night, I can always leave and find somewhere else to get wasted. Or, you can stop being such a motherfuckin'hen, and live it up a little with me." 

It all should have boiled down to me looking out for Ed's well being by letting him drink himself stupid in a safe enviroment, instead of at another seedy bar where not even god's knew what could happen to the headstrong man. But I would be lying to myself if I said that was the only motive I have for doing what I was about to do... no, a selfish (and maybe a bit desperately horny) part of me wants to get Ed as drunk as possible. Maybe then we could pick up where we left off against that wall... 

"Fine," I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation, "you win! But don't you dare complain to me when you have a fucking hangover from hell in the morning." I make my way into the kitchen, beckoning Edward to follow. Opening up a cupboard above the toaster, I pull out a bottle half filled with an amber liquid. 

"What's that?" Ed asks, leaning his whole torso over the island countertop. 

I pull down two small shot glasses and start pouring out the alcohol as I reply, "It's Rum, the good stuff no less, so you better not complain."  
Edward grabs for his glass as I take my own and we raise them to toast; clinking them together with a shared mumble of, "Cheers." We both toss the shots back quick, and set the empty glasses down with more force than needed. 

"Mmmmm, fuck that's good stuff," Ed sighs, his cheeks starting to turn a faded pink because of the poison now running through his veins.  
It takes a bit longer to affect me, because years of heavy drinking has practically destroyed my liver and has given me a higher tolerance. But eventually it does hit, and it leaves my head spinning in a warm, tingly way. 

"Another!" Edward suddenly cries out, holding his empty glass toward me expectantly. At this point I know that it is pointless to argue with him, and I just give in. I pour us both another round and raise my glass to Ed. 

"To Alphonse getting married," I toast, and we clink over the sentiment and down our shots. 

We laugh and shove each other playfully as we chat for a while, the atmosphere between us warm and companionable. I don't think I can recall another moment quite so comfortable between us until now. A few minutes of blissful inebriation later, however, and Ed's smile starts to falter and his face pales considerably. "Oh fuck.. thinkI'mgonnabesick--" he slurs it together as one long word, before he turns toward the sink; perhaps a little too fast, because now he is holding his head and looking rather faint. 

On Instinct I reach out, and tangle my fingers into Ed's long, golden hair and I pull it back as he vomits violently into the kitchen sink. The sound of Ed gagging, and the rancid stench of his puke fills the room for at least a minute, before he pulls away from the sink with a grimace-- washing the contents out of his mouth and down the drain. 

Fingers still twined almost intimately in his hair, I take this time to gloat, "I told you it was a bad idea." 

All of the fight must have left Edward along with the contents of his stomach, because instead of replying with a snarky comment, he just falls heavily into my waiting arms. "I feel... sleepy," he mumbles into my white, cotton t-shirt. 

With a start, I realize I'm still holding firmly onto Ed's hair, so I let go; feeling slightly embarrassed. "Here, let's get you situated on the couch then," I say, as I lead Edward into the living room and to my plush couch. 

Ed sits down gingerly, his head coming to rest heavily on the top of the couch. His vibrant eyes slip closed, and he emits a soft groan. I can't help but smile and revel in being right, already enjoying the thought of all the gloating I'll be able to do tomorrow on Ed's behalf. But for right now, I feel like being warm and caring and want nothing more than to be the shoulder that Edward will need to lean on. So I kneel before him, and slip off his clunky black boots. 

One gold eye cracks open to watch me intently as I go on to pull off the one sock on his right foot; the left one flashes dully in the lamp light. I look up, catching Edward's gaze; onyx now able to melt into burnished gold. The intensity of our stare down lasts only briefly though. I break contact first, and avert my eyes down toward Ed's automail foot. 

"You know," I mumble softly, before gathering more courage to continue, "I've never touched your automail before, and I've always been curious... do you mind?" My gaze is imploring, openly curious, and possibly full of adoration for the feisty blond. I know there's a cocktail of emotions in my eyes that Edward can't fathom, because he has no idea of the depths of my affection for him. 

Edward gives me a calculating glance before he shrugs and says, "Sure... be my guest I guess." 

I release a pent up sigh and smile fondly at the blond, who once again has his eyes closed, and his head tipped over the back of the couch. I run my hand slowly over the graceful arch of his metal foot, my thumb making lazy strokes over his heel before going back up to play with cute, mechanical toes. I look up to see Ed smiling softly, and the sight makes my tummy feel warm. He just looks so perfect like this, open and relaxed-- unguarded, without a scowl muddying up his soft features. 

"Y'know, even if I can't technically feel that, I can at least feel the pressure of you pulling on my toes-- and it feels fucking weird..." He doesn't say that with his usual bite behind it-- no, Edward's voice is light and breathy, almost like he has been tickled and is fighting for air between fits of laughter. I find myself blushing, his actions too damn cute not to get flustered over. 

I stop my exploration of Edward's unique appendage and stand up, brushing some carpet lint off of my Military blue slacks. "Well, I'm going to go fetch us some blankets and pillows... try not to vomit on anything while I'm gone-- I'm too drunk and tired to clean it up if you do."  
Ed hums in response, probably already half asleep now. I shake my head and walk towards the stairs that will lead to my bedroom on the second floor. When I get there I scoop up two goose down pillows and my favorite red blanket; stopping by my rarely used hall closet for a spare, light beige blanket I received one year for Christmas. 

As I walk back down stairs and into the living room, arms full of fluffy sleepy time things, I catch sight of Ed already sprawled out, and snoring on the couch. A rush of warmth runs through me as I watch him breathe deep, and slow; his face completely innocent and sweet enough to turn my bones into jelly. I tiptoe as silently as possible over to Ed's sleeping form, and spread the beige blanket out over his relaxed body. I lift his head up as gingerly as I can, and place a pillow beneath it. 

Ed makes a small squeaking noise in his sleep, but other than that he stays peacefully ignorant of the world around him. I brush the bangs out of his face, my fingers lingering a little too long on his soft, sunkissed skin. Edward's face turns slightly into the light touch, so I withdraw my hand, not wanting to wake him. I let out a soft sigh, and fall into the comfy armchair beside the couch; leaning back with my pillow to curl up in the red blanket.  
Sooner than expected, sleep claims me within its gentle grasp. 

 

A violent sound wakes me up from my peaceful dreams, and sends me bolting upwards, my fingers pressed together and ready to ignite any unsuspecting intruders. I look around wildly in the darkness for any signs of movement, my heartbeat like thunder in my ears.  
It is silent for a few moments, before a bone chilling scream tears through the quiet. I turn, my eyesight slowly growing accustomed to the dark. Edward is trembling, his eyes closed and moving rapidly behind his eyelids. His skin is pale, all color devoid of his flesh, and his hair looks drenched in sweat. I know exactly what Edward is experiencing then, as I have had to deal with the same situation far too often in the past... night terrors. 

"N-no.." Edward whimpers in a pathetically small voice, as he starts to thrash around more violently. "No--please, I'm sorry.." His frightened, fragile voice breaks my heart. I have no idea what Edward is dreaming about, but I can take a few educated guesses; and none of the answers are too pleasant to think about.  
I approach Ed slowly, not wanting to jar him awake too suddenly because it might send him into a panic attack. I grip his shaking shoulders firmly, his skin feeling cold and clammy beneath his sweat soaked shirt. "Ed," I almost shout the name, lightly jostling him in an attempt to break him free of his nightmare. There is no response, Edward only mumbles more incoherent words, that tremble and break with every quick, frightened gasp he makes. 

"EDWARD!" I finally shout. 

That does it. Golden eyes snap open suddenly, but they are glassy and filled with the one thing I rarely associate with Edward Elric: fear. "I'm sorry," Ed sobs, his gaze looking beyond me and into the darkness. "Please... I'm so sorry... mom." Tears fall freely from Edward's haunted eyes, and he is struggling to take a substantial breath-- his eyes still wide in fear. My stomach clenches at those words, because I know exactly what that nightmare was about then. 

Ed was re-living the night where he tried to bring back his mother through Human Transmutation... the night he lost more than he ever bargained for. The night he gave up on what was left of his childhood innocence. 

I bring Edward into a tight embrace, my fingers running through his sweat damp, blond hair in a soothing gesture of comfort. "It's okay Ed," I murmur against his temple, "you're not there anymore. It was just a bad dream... it's okay now." 

After a few minutes, Ed begins to calm down, his trembling finally coming to a stop. It is quiet between the two of us for a while, and I realize my fingers are still trailing through Ed's blond hair to comfort him. "Sorry 'bout that..." Edward mumbles, his eyes stuck staring at his still slightly shaking hands. 

I want to say that there is nothing to be sorry about, but I know that saying those words right now might upset Edward further. So instead I opt to whisper, "Don't worry about it." I can see the tears threatening to fall from Ed's eyes, but he fights them-- managing to just sniffle a bit. He won't meet my dark, penetrating gaze though and it frustrates me! I know it's because he doesn't want to look weak in front of me. After all of these years, we've found ourselves still playing these childish games, and I've had enough. 

"Look at me," I order, using the tone of voice once reminiscent of his commanding officer. Edward scowls, but lifts his eyes to meet mine. My harsh black eyes soften, once they meet Ed's watery gaze. "You don't always have to be strong anymore Ed, you're past all of that now. You restored what was lost. You won the war against the Gate! And right now, with me at least, you can be as weak as you need to be... I'll be strong enough for the both of us, I promise." 

For a moment I think that Ed is going to yell at me for suggesting even remotely that he was weak; so it catches me by total surprise, when he buries his face into my loose cotton shirt, and begins to cry like a little child. "I'm sorry," Ed sobs, his voice cracking in half and is left a shattered mess. His strong arms wrap around my waist, his fingers cling to my back like a lifeline. I feel guilty for thinking how right it feels. 

I just let Ed cry, and continue my soothing gesture of carding through his long, silky hair. It doesn't last long though, probably because the elder Elric brother hates showing weakness. He pulls away far too soon for my liking because, quite honestly, I was enjoying comforting Ed. It made me feel needed... and I haven't felt that way in a very long time. 

Blushing heavily at the thought of what I am going to ask of Edward is extremely embarrassing. "Can I... hold you a little longer? I just want to have you close to me for a little while more." Ed doesn't say anything in return, he merely looks confused, but settles into my embrace regardless; his broad back pressed into my chest.  
After a moments contemplation, I decide to kiss the golden crown of Edward's head, and I inhale his scent greedily. He oddly smells like fresh, sun ripened apples. The scent is so strong, I wonder if Ed just rolls around in them all day to smell like that. It's a funny mental image, and it makes me smile like a complete idiot.

"Are you sniffing my fucking hair?" Ed asks incredulously, tipping his head back and up to stare me in the face. 

Whelp I think, there's no point in trying to weasel my way out of this one. I smile like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and say, "Your hair smells like fresh apples. It's nice, but really weird... usually scented shampoos only smell vaguely like what they advertise, so I was just curious." 

A tiny smile curves Ed's lips. "That's because you can't buy this kind of shampoo anywhere, it's something only Alchemy can make." 

"Isn't that a little excessive? If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was kind of gay of you Ed." 

Ed turns in my lap and nudges me harshly in the ribs. "Hey! Don't stereotype, it makes you look like a dick. Besides I..." here Edward's voice softens and a fleeting smile touches his lips, "... I have my reasons." 

I tilt my head to the side and feel my deep voice reverberate from my chest and against Ed's back as I ask, "What do you mean by that Ed?"

"She loved apples," Edward's voice is tender, his eyes seeming far away and reminiscent. "You see, Hohenheim used Alchemy to make her happy. It was always small things like a ring of flowers, or fixing something precious to her that either Al or I broke when we were kids. But, there was one thing in particular that he would always do for her. 

"The scent of fresh picked apples always reminded her of her home, her family before us. So Hohen-- dad-- he would use his Alchemy to combine a gel base, and concentrate the apples to their most potent form to make shampoos or dish soaps for her. Mom always said the smell reminded her of happy times... of home, of father. When I was scared, or angry, or just wanted someone to hold me-- mom would bring me into her arms, and hold me tight. And the smell of apples would surround me, as warm and comforting as our summer days." 

Ed's gaze is flown far away with his memories, but I don't mind it so much. Hearing stories from his childhood makes me feel special; feel included within his small circle of people he lets close to his heart. A mocking laugh, accompanied by a wry smile alters Ed's gentle face. "In the end, it's just like my pocket watch. A subtle reminder of what I've lost and can never get back. But... it's more than that. It's comfort when I'm scared. A way to keep something of her in my memories when her face, and her voice begins to fade. So, that's why my hair smells like apples. Because it reminds me of home. It reminds me of her." 

His gold eyes look up, catching mine, the sweetest sadness reflected in Edward's unguarded eyes. I knew how fragile and broken Edward was-- knew it from the moment I laid eyes on the kid all those years ago. To this day though, witnessing the younger man's heartache only makes me want to protect Ed. It makes me want to hold him through his nightmares, until the morning light and the promise of another tomorrow beyond the pain.

It is hard, and completely wrong to admit, but I knew then that I have some sort of feelings other than friendship for the former Alchemist-- feelings I know I shouldn't have-- but they are there regardless, beating themselves senseless against my ribcage. 

"It doesn't make you weak Ed," I finally murmur, resting my head atop his soft hair. "It makes you human." Edward sucks in a shuddery breath, and I feel him nod mutely in response. 

"I know that... and I know that I'm not the only one who clings to such foolish things, everyone does it. For Winry it's her teddie bear her parents gave her, before they left for Ishvaal. For Al, he likes to plant Hydrangeas. And for me, I like he smell of sun ripe apples." He shifts in my arms that are wrapped loosely around him, and gives me a tentative smile. 

I smile in response before asking, "Why Hydrangeas?" 

"Because mom used to plant them everywhere outside our house," Ed whispers, a faint grin on his face. "She said it made her feel closer to father, because it was like her own kind of Alchemy. Depending on the type of soil a Hydrangea is planted in, the colors are different, taking on the properties of the elements in the soil." 

"I didn't know that. I just thought they came in different colors because they are tampered with through Alchemy." I feel a little ashamed of myself, but it admit it honestly. 

Edward laughs then, and it's the brightest sound I've heard in a long time. "Some Alchemist you are, almost everyone knows that!" 

I pout at his mocking tone, but gradually begin to smile, because Ed's laughter is a tad bit infectious. "Hey! I never said Science was my forte. I kind of just blow stuff up." That makes Ed laugh even harder, tears of mirth gathering at the corners of his scrunched up eyes. 

After his laughter dies down to a few giggles, and my expression has settled back into a pout, Ed speaks. "Do you realize we've been sitting like this for almost an hour, and we've somehow managed not to kill eachother?" A crooked smile plays havoc across Edward's shapely lips. 

"Shit you're right," my eyes widen at the realization, "I guess miracles can come true." I finish dryly. Ed scowls and elbows me in the ribs once more. "Hey!" I cough out, my side now aching from the forceful jab, "what the hell was that for?!" 

"I was trying to be serious you ass," a dark look settles across Ed's brow, making him look broody and closed off again. He chews his bottom lip, and it seems like he wants to say something else, but chooses to bite back the words; and I see right through it. 

"You have something else on your mind, don't you Ed?" I state it simply because I really hate beating around the bush. It takes too much damn energy, especially concerning someone so spirited as the man resting against my chest. A big, red blush instantly creeps across Ed's pale skin at the question, and it's a dead giveaway that he's still hiding something. "C'mon Ed, you know I'm going to get the answer out of you one way, or another." 

Edward huffs, crosses his arms defiantly, and turns his face to glare at the dark space beside us. "I don't have anything to say to you, bastard." Defensive, profane and fiery Ed is coming back, and it makes me scowl. Oh well I think sadly to myself, all good things must come to an end. I'm not going to give up without a fight though, and I prove that by raking my fingers up the blond's sides in the most ticklish way I can manage. 

"What the FUCK?!" Ed screeches and squirms around spastically trying to escape my mischievous fingers. 

"Come on, I won't stop until you tell me what's on your mind, shorty." I'm absolutley gleeful as I torture the poor blond with both actions and words. 

"WHO'ER YOU CALLIN' SO SMALL THEY CAN BE EATEN BY AN ANT, HUH?!" Ed rants, his temper flaring to dangerous heights-- and he demonstrates this by smacking me in the face, effectively wiping away my shit eating grin. That makes me only try harder, so I slip my hands under Ed's black tank top, and tickle his bare flesh. My fingers skitter along hard muscle, and puckered scars that I know are extra sensitive. A breathy moan escapes Ed, and he claps a hand over his traitorous mouth. 

I stop instantly, and stare wide eyed at Ed's flushed, frightened face. "Did you just...?" I trail off, a little too embarrassed myself to finish that sentence. Tears well up unexpectedly in Ed's eyes, and it catches me completely by surprise. He buries his face into his knees, and wraps his arms around his head. 

"Shit," he bites out, scrunching in on himself in what seems like protection. "You probably think I'm a freak or something. I should just leave because I fucking made this awkward between us and that's the last thing I wanted to do and--" 

"Ed?" I interrupt, before he can continue to beat himself up any further. Hesitantly, because I'm afraid of Ed's reaction, I place my hands on the man's arms; pulling them away so I can finally see his face. "I'm sorry. I went too far... okay?" I lift Ed's quivering chin so he'll meet my eyes. Something crumbles then behind his bright, tortured gold eyes; a voilent sob falls from his mouth. 

Edward looks so lost, so scared, and so utterly ready to break. "I love you," he whispers, his eyes scrunching closed, pain written into every line creasing his gorgeous face. The confession makes my heart stop, and it does a weird fluttery thing like its trying to catch up with time. His three words keep ringing in a constant loop through my thoughts. I love you, I love you, I love you! I smile so widely then that it hurts my cheeks while I feel those words resonate deeply with my soul, and ring so purely in my own heart. 

Strong hands, etched with scars dug by my own fingers, cup Edward's face. Ed opens his eyes, confusion swimming through them until I descend my lips to meet his. It's one of the sweetest kisses I have ever experienced, even sweeter than the one I shared so many years ago with Maes in a night of curious experimentation. It's wet, and it is warm; full of all the tenderness either of us has to offer the other. When we pull apart I smile, and press my forehead against Ed's. 

"I love you too Ed." My heart swells as the words leave my lips to brush across Edward's skin. He closes his eyes, sighs deeply and slumps forward to rest his face against my chest. 

"You better not be toying with me, you bastard." He grinds out, his fingers tighten in the soft fabric of my shirt. " 'cuz if you are, I'm gonna chop off your dick and keep it as a trophy." I pale at the thought, and don't doubt for a single second that this wicked little blond meant every word. 

My fingers trail through Ed's cornsilk soft hair as I reply, "I promise, I mean every word. It may seem like I wouldn't be serious considering my reputation, but I will never say something that I don't mean to you." My eyebrows knit themselves together. "I don't know when it began, nor can I explain to you why I feel this way... but, what I can say is that I truly love you Edward." 

A smile lights up Ed's face at long last, and he reluctantly twines his arms around my waist. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's like, I woke up one day and realized, 'Oh crap! I'm kinda in love with Central's biggest bastard...'" Edward smiles cheekily up at me, and I roll my eyes; a small smile quirking at the edges of my lips none-the-less. 

"You're a hopeless little brat, you do know that Ed?" 

Edward glares and spits out, "Don't say the 'L' word... I am not above punching you in the face Roy." My eyes widen in shock and my mouth falls open slightly. A fluttery, giddy feeling tumbles around in my stomach because Ed called me by my first name! It equally shocks and thrills me to no end.  
It's silent for a while, the both of us kind of smiling like infatuated idiots while we snuggle together. "So um..." Ed trails off, his cheeks flaring pink as he scowls. "Are we um, like dating now? Or... I don't know-- is this just like a one night thing?" 

His question takes me by surprise, but I don't quite fault Ed for not fully believing me... my womanizing reputation is a rather infamous thing, even if it is mostly false. "Of course we're together now. I mean, I'm not going to lie and promise you a forever, or if we'll even make it a week before we want to kill eachother-- but, what I can promise is that I'll give us a try. I want to make this work, because you mean a lot to me, Ed." In the purest display of utter bashfulness, he buries his face into my chest; but I see his face splitting into a grin seconds before, regardless. 

He yawns loudly all of a sudden and he sits up, his eyes meeting mine; a brief precursor to the lips that now press against my own tenderly. This kiss is deeper than the first, a playful tongue prods my lower lip and I open up willingly. It's languid and lasts for a few toe-curling minutes, before we break apart. Ed stifles another yawn and mumbles, "Gettin' sleepy..." 

A faint blush warms my cheeks, my throat a little dry because I'm embarrassed of the images that come to my mind at Ed's words. Thoughts of Edward's limbs entangled in my own, as we passionately made love. Warm, wet kisses even deeper than the ones we've shared so far. Sleepy golden eyes that will greet me on countless mornings of strong coffee, and the weight of his body always against my chest. 

I clear my throat and offer shyly, "You can come join me in my bed, if you'd like. It's alot more comfortable, a-and it'll be easier to cuddle that way."  
"M'kay, sounds good." Ed mumbles, graciously choosing not to comment on how I stammered out such a lame excuse to veil my desire for cuddles. He gathers his blanket and pillow up and I do the same. 

Before we make our way up the stairs to the comfort of my King sized bed, I turn back to face Ed; and I suck in a shuddery breath before announcing, "Hot chocolate." I mumble it quickly because I'm actually quite embarrassed of this particular confession about myself. Edward's quizzical stare makes me feel a tad self conscious, until I realize that I probably needed to elaborate on that rather vague statement. "When I was little and she was still alive, my mom used to make me hot chocolate when I was sick, or when I woke up from a bad dream. To this day it's one of the only things that can calm my nerves, and make me feel better when I'm at my worst." 

A bittersweet smile spreads over Ed's lips, a certain kind of understanding in his eyes. "Thanks Roy." He approaches me, and brushes warm fingers along the length of my arm. I nod, not needing him to explain what he meant as I take his hand in mine, and stare deeply into his eyes. I never realized until this moment how his warm eyes burned like a shot of whiskey, and warmed me up like a summer night. 

He presses his lips against mine again, his kiss absolutely intoxicating.


End file.
